Elf or Santa?
by colorguard28
Summary: Jerry's analysis of Abby's feelings for McGee makes her remember what she was thinking about last Christmas. Will she decide to follow through this year? Or is it too late? Spoilers for Faith and False Witness.


_**AN:** As always, thanks to Kyrie for a speedy edit — and for making me rework the ending so it, you know, worked. :) _

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Elf or Santa? **

Abby watched from behind the stairs as McGee and Ziva jumped when Tony's confetti explosion brought the entire squad room to its feet. She'd known something was up ever since yesterday morning, but when Tony wouldn't give anything away to Gibbs, she knew he wouldn't tell her either. She still wasn't sure how Ziva had gotten him to talk, but she was glad somebody had.

As Tony gave Jerry a thumbs-up, Abby wrinkled her nose. The psychoanalyzing petty officer gave her the creeps. Worse, she hadn't been able to get his assessment out of her mind. She'd lain awake half the night going over every interaction she and McGee had had during recent weeks and months, wondering if Jerry was right and Timmy was still interested in her. Then she'd rolled over and pulled a pillow over her head because she knew the answer. She'd always known the answer. No matter how many other women he dated, he still had a piece of his heart reserved for her. About 3 a.m., she'd admitted the same was true of her.

That was the worst part about what Jerry said. He was right. About everything. She did think McGee was The One, and she wasn't ready for that. She'd thought she was ready this time last year, seeing Carol caring for her nephew Fisher while his mom was deployed. Carol was just as wild and crazy as she was, but she managed to fit Fisher into her life without losing any of what made her Carol. And seeing McGee with Fisher in MTAC, well, she wasn't kidding when she told him he'd make a great Santa.

She could totally see him with kids of his own, and she'd thought about asking him to come back to her place, see if maybe he was still interested. But she'd taken a few minutes to let the MTAC techs know that if Vance found out and wanted to yell at somebody, to send him to her and leave McGee out of it. Timmy had pulled off a miracle, and she didn't want him punished for it. When she finished, he was gone.

Carol said he'd mentioned something about meeting his sister as he hurried out. Then he and Sarah were out of town visiting their parents. By the time he returned, she'd gone to Louisana for her annual New Year's visit to her family. She got back just before the jetpack case, and McGee's head was in the clouds for a couple of weeks after that. Then Tony's dad showed up, and before she knew it, the moment had passed and she couldn't figure out how to bring it up again.

Abby shook herself out of her reverie as Palmer passed her on his way downstairs. She could see his eyes were red and wondered what Jerry had said to him. That got her wondering what he'd said to Tim. She bit her lower lip. She couldn't worry about that now. First, she needed to talk to Tony, see what had been bugging him.

She walked into the bullpen as the last bits of confetti fluttered down.

"Tony, the cleaning crew is going to kill you," she said, grinning. "It was worth it, though."

"Yeah, thanks, Abs," Tim said, brushing confetti off his jacket.

"I will have this in my hair all day," Ziva said, trying to pick the paper pieces out of her curls. "Still, Tony, I am glad you are back."

Tim frowned. "Yeah, I am, too," he said finally. "But you know, DiNozzo, this means war."

"Bring it on, Elflord," Tony said. "You're going to have to go a long way to top this one."

Tim smirked. "Oh, believe me, I know." He took his jacket off to brush away the confetti, and Abby came up behind him and started brushing it out of his hair.

"Thanks, Abs." He grinned at her, the big smile that was so Timmy, and she felt her stomach give a few flips. Yeah, she was in big trouble. She quickly finished brushing the paper away and went to help Ziva pick the pieces out of her hair.

When she saw Tony starting to sneak away, she murmured an excuse to Ziva and followed him to the break room, cornering him by the candy machine.

"I was wondering when it would be your turn." Tony sighed as he checked to make sure Vance was nowhere nearby, then smacked the machine to force a chocolate bar out of it.

Abby wrapped her arms around him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder. "We care, Tony. I know you're not used to that, but you need to get used to it. After almost 10 years, we're not letting you go."

He unwound her arms so he could bend over to get the candy from the machine, then wrapped one arm around her waist as he stood. "So what did they tell you?"

Abby shook her head. "Nothing. I didn't ask, wanted to hear it from you first."

Tony looked away, then led her over to the bank of windows. "Ziva said I'm growing up, and she's right." He sighed. "Do you remember Brenda Bittner?"

Abby had to think for a minute before the gossip from the spring came back to her. "She's the one who put you on her Facebook profile, right?"

He nodded. "I was just being me, having a one-night stand." He looked into the distance, and Abby was left examining his profile. "I hit a drought after Jeanne, you know that, right?"

Abby nodded. She remembered nights out clubbing where Tony would expect to take a cab and end up riding home with her after striking out. "Almost two years?"

He frowned, the corners of his mouth turning down. "You don't need to rub it in. I'm not supposed to have these kind of issues." He crossed his arms. "I finally got back into it last year, and Brenda was one of the first women I dated where I was finally able to close the deal."

Abby wrinkled her nose. "Please tell me you're not disclosing a physical condition, because that's more information than I want to know about any of my guy friends."

Tony turned to look at her. "What, you don't want to know if Ducky needs chemical help to deal with all those 'provocative' e-mails McBlabber said he got?"

"OK, I'll admit Ducky's adorable, and I'll bet he was smokin' hot when he was younger, but again, not something I want to think about in any kind of detail." Abby wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "So what happened with Brenda?"

Tony pulled her close. "I found out the other day she checked herself into a depression treatment center a couple of months ago. Wrapped her car around a tree first. Supposedly an accident, but you can add two and two as well as I can."

Abby nodded soberly. "I'm not sure I follow, though. You two weren't serious. I could see it if Jeanne had checked herself in after that crazy mission blew up in your face — literally — but you can't be holding yourself responsible for Brenda."

"No, it's not that." Tony paused, and she could tell her was searching for words. "It's more... I'm a trained investigator. More, I'm the expert on the team at reading people. That's one of the big things I bring to the team, and I didn't even pick up on that. After I heard, I thought back and realized there were a dozen little signs that I'd dismissed because I was more concerned about getting some than anything else." He blew out a breath. "You ever have something big come up and smack you in the back of the head, make you rethink everything you thought you knew about yourself?"

Abby couldn't help snickering. "All those headslaps didn't do it, but Brenda did? Don't tell Gibbs — he'll start hitting harder." But she rested her head on Tony's shoulder. "Yeah, I know. I think I'm getting one of those headslaps this week."

He rested his cheek on her head. "Want to talk about it?"

Now it was Abby's turn to sigh. "Just Jerry's psychoanalysis. He's creepy, but he's scarily right."

Tony pulled away and turned so they were facing each other, his hands on her shoulders. "You and McGee?"

Now it was Abby's turn to pull away and look out the window. She stared out at the Potomac. "Is it that obvious?"

Tony stood behind her, rubbing her shoulders. "Abs, this is me. I'm the one who introduced you two. I've been watching you two dance around each other ever since you stopped dating five years ago. The only question I've ever had is if the two of you would manage to get on the same page before one of you gave up and settled for somebody else. And by one of you, I mean McGee."

Abby blinked back tears at his matter-of-fact tone. "You really..."

"He won't wait forever." Tony slid his hands down her arms and wrapped his arms around her waist. "And if he does find somebody because you waited too long, I'd encourage him to go for it with her because I've never seen any sign that you're ready for what he's looking for."

Abby nodded. "Right, nobody ever thinks of me as somebody who wants kids and the white picket fence."

"Do you?" Tony could have been snarky when he said it. He would be 99 out of 100 times. But not today. And the sincere question made her think in a way she hadn't in months.

"I think a red picket fence would have more pizzaz," she said. "But he's the only man who's ever made me think settling down wouldn't be just settling." She sighed. "It's just... he's always there, and I figured he always would be."

"Don't wait too long," he said. "Last week, he got another e-mail from his mom mentioning a whole list of his high school classmates who were either getting married or expecting babies. He might be 10 years younger than us-"

"Eight years." Abby interrupted.

"Eight years." Tony's voice had just a hint of laughter around the edges. "We waited. He won't. And if you want kids, you don't have too much time to wait, either."

Abby grumbled, but she knew too much biology to disagree with Tony. "I know." She paused. "If I tell you something, do you pinky-swear not to repeat it?"

Tony loosened his arms so she could turn and face him. He was holding out his hand, pinky finger crooked. "Pinky-swear," he said as they hooked fingers.

"I started thinking about it last Christmas," she said. "But I missed my chance and before I knew it we were down in Mexico and he was cranky because Alejandro was flirting and he hates traveling and we were snarking at each other and then all hell broke loose." She sighed. "I feel like I missed my chance."

"Make your chance," Tony said. "If you wait for the perfect time, either he's going to find somebody else or you two are going to be doing this dance in your motorized wheelchairs while Ziva and I debate whether we can headslap you hard enough to finally make you come to your senses."

Abby nodded. "Thanks, Tony."

"Any time." He headed back to the squad room. "So, let's go see if they've finished cleaning up yet."

When they walked into the bullpen, Tim and Ziva were hard at work at clean desks while Tony's was buried under a pile of colored confetti. Abby decided she was heading to the lab where it was safe.

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

McGee was glad when the week finally ended and they got out on time Christmas Eve. No crazy cases to ruin the holiday like the past two years. The three-way prank war with Tony and Ziva had kept him on his toes all week. Well, except for the time Ziva took all the screws out of his chair the way Tony had done to hers a couple of years ago. His tailbone was still sore from landing on the edge of one of the metal chair arms.

Not to mention the constant heightened alert kept him from thinking about what that weird petty officer had said to him at the beginning of the week.

_McGee led Jerry from the bullpen, where an agent had escorted him after he had finished in the lab, to the conference room where they had set up a TV for him to watch until it was time for Gibbs to take him home. _

_"So, Agent McGee," he said. "No wonder you still have a thing for Abby. She's attractive; she's smart. You could never date somebody who wasn't intelligent; you'd get bored too quickly. You have this mental image of a picket fence, 2.5 kids and a dog, but you'd hate it in reality. Abby attracts you because she makes you step outside your comfort zone, keeps you on your toes."_

_"Abby and I are just friends." Tim frowned. This guy was annoying, and not in the good Tony-type annoying. There was something hinky about him. _

_"Oh, sure you are. But you want to be more. She does too, but she won't let herself admit it. She knows you're her one, and she's not ready for that. She figures if she keeps you in the friend zone, you'll still be there when she's ready to settle down."_

_Tim tried not to grind his teeth. "The remote's on the table by the window, along with coffee and hot water for tea, plus a pitcher of ice water. If you want anything else, there will be an agent outside the door, who will also escort you if you need to go to the head or anywhere else on the Yard." He left, shutting the door behind him before Jerry could say anything else about Abby._

Once he'd finished exhausting Jethro on an evening run, he showered and changed into flannel pajama pants and a long-sleeved green T-shirt his mother had sent him with a giant Santa Claus on the front. He didn't have the heart to tell her he wouldn't be caught dead wearing it anywhere, but tonight nobody except Jethro would see it.

He made some pasta and dumped jarred sauce on top of it, leaning against the kitchen counter to eat. He had to admit, part of the reason he'd had a tough time dismissing what Jerry had said was because Abby had flirted with him all week. First she'd brushed the confetti from his hair, which he'd thought was just Abby being Abby. But she'd been a lot more hands-on in her affection all week, and her innuendo was almost as outrageous as Tony's usually was. And then there was the mistletoe.

_McGee and Tony stifled smirks as Gibbs walked into the bullpen, red lip prints on one cheek. _

_"Abby break out the mistletoe again, Boss?" Tony asked from his spot next to McGee as they tried to figure out where the money in an embezzlement case had disappeared. _

_When Gibbs stared at the senior agent, Tim pointed to Gibbs, then mimed rubbing something off his own cheek._

_Gibbs quirked an eyebrow, then walked to the head. When he came back, his cheek was free of all traces of the lipstick. _

_The next day, McGee went to Autopsy to check on something with Ducky and found both the medical examiner and Palmer washing their faces. _

_"Abby's mistletoe?" He couldn't help smirking. _

_"Yeah. How'd you know?" Jimmy sounded puzzled, and Tim had to fight to keep the grin off his face. _

_"Gibbs had to de-SWAK himself yesterday," he said. "But don't call it that in front of Tony."_

_"Yes, I imagine that phrase is one young Anthony prefers not to hear." Ducky finished scrubbing his cheek and walked over to the steel doors at the end of the room to check his reflection. _

_'"You got it all," Tim said before opening the file he'd brought so he could consult Ducky on some oddities in the evidence._

_So when he'd walked into the lab yesterday, he'd known Abby would get him under the mistletoe somehow. He didn't mind, either. He could survive her cheek kisses, because she handed those out to everybody. He even gave her some, like the one last year when she'd been so happy that he'd been able to grant Fisher's Christmas wish or the one just a few weeks ago when she'd called him McGyver. That smile on her face always made him wish she wanted the same thing he did. _

_But when he was standing by Major Mass Spec's output computer and she pointed up, he wasn't prepared for what happened next. She leaned in and kissed him, but not on the cheek. As she touched her lips to his, Tim had to fight the urge to pull her close, to turn the kiss into one like they used to share. She slid her hands up to his shoulders so he stayed close even when she pulled away. "Merry Christmas, Timmy." She smiled, her green eyes contrasting with her red Santa skull sweater. _

_"Merry Christmas, Abs." He couldn't stop himself from reaching out and tracing the edge of her jaw with one hand. But then his cell phone rang and the spell was broken. As he listened to Gibbs' orders, he breathed a sigh of relief that Boss had stopped him before he did something to ruin his friendship with Abby. _

Tim scraped the last of the spaghetti from the bowl, then put it in the sink to wash in the morning.

He headed into the living room, this apartment having enough space for a couch so he could put a TV someplace other than his bedroom. His writing desk still sat in one corner, but his workbench and computers were in the second bedroom, out of the way. Tony had helped him arrange all the furniture when he'd moved a couple of years ago, insisting that he would keep McGee's dates from realizing he was a McGeek. Tim had rolled his eyes at that — if a woman had issues with his geek side, they were doomed anyway, no matter what his apartment looked like — but it was easier to acquiesce than argue. It was impossible to win an argument with Tony, unless you were Gibbs and just smacked him to shut him up. Tim grinned as he settled into the couch. Jethro was curled up on his dog bed under the window, doggie snores rumbling from his nose.

This was the first Christmas he would be alone. But after the craziness of the past few weeks, he was looking forward to just relaxing for a couple of days. Sarah was spending the holiday visiting her boyfriend's family in Tennessee, and Tim half-expected her to come back wearing a ring. His parents had decided to take a cruise when they learned neither Sarah nor Tim could make it home. Technically, the team was on call for Christmas, but Balboa's team was actually on duty, so they would only get called in if more than one case was reported.

Tim had just found a channel playing a Christmas movie marathon when he heard knocking at his door. He walked over and looked out the peephole to see Abby standing there, Santa hat on her head.

He opened the door. "Hey, Abs." She hugged him — this was Abby after all — and he could feel a heavy bag hanging from her arm.

"What's that?" He pulled away. "I thought we all agreed, no presents."

She shook her head as she handed it to him. "Hot chocolate mix and peppermint schnapps. I figured since you weren't going home, I'd bring some Christmas cheer."

As she spoke, she unfastened her cape and hung it on one of the hooks behind the door. Tim swallowed at the sight of her short red skirt, black belt, and red T-shirt, cut short enough for a strip of pale skin to show above the belt. When she turned to face him, he could see the shirt scooped down in the front, just low enough for him to wonder whether she had gone for her usual black bra or was keeping with the red theme. He gave himself a mental headslap for wondering, even as his eyes traveled down to admire her long, bare legs that ended in knee-high boots.

"Why don't I put the water on?" he asked, needing to escape and get himself under control.

Once in the kitchen, he thought of icy showers and Gibbs' glare as he mechanically filled the kettle and turned on a burner to heat the water. He turned back just as Abby walked into the kitchen, her feet clad in red socks with white fur around the tops.

"Santa socks?" He raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were going for the elf look." He paused. "Or I guess I'm the elf, or Elflord."

Abby grinned. "Not exactly," she said. She stepped past him to the cabinet where his mugs were kept. She pulled out the big 20-ounce one he'd bought for her to use when they were dating. "Do you want your big clown one, one of these, or a regular one?" She looked back over her shoulder, and he had to fight the urge to get a mug down for himself, just as an excuse to get his arms around her.

"A regular one is fine," he said.

She nodded and got one out, then pulled the bottle of peppermint schnapps out of the bag, pouring some into her mug. "How strong do you want your hot chocolate?"

Tim thought about it and decided he was tired of being cautious around her. Maybe creepy petty officer was right, he did like dancing along the edge a bit. "I'm not going anywhere," he said. "Put a couple of shots in." He hesitated, then added, "You're welcome to stay over if you want to make yours strong."

She smiled and added more to her mug before pouring the liqueur into his mug. She stepped over to him. "You remember last Christmas?"

He nodded, thinking of the joy on Fisher's face as he got his Christmas wish, not to mention the wonder on Abby's face. "You said I would make a great Santa."

She nodded. "You would." She looped her hands around his neck as she stepped closer. He could feel her body heat as she stood almost touching him and had to fight to keep his body from reacting, even as he found his hands resting on her hips. "You're even dressed for it." He looked down as she traced the Santa face on his T-shirt, and felt his face heating — a combination of embarrassment and arousal.

"It was a gift from my mom," he admitted. "I figured nobody but Jethro would see it tonight."

She looked up at him and said, "We could fix that, you know."

He raised an eyebrow. "You came over here dressed as Santa to seduce me?"

"Not Santa," she said, looking up at him. "More like... Mrs. Santa?" When he didn't say anything — not sure what to say — she bit her lower lip and pulled back a little. "Unless you'd rather be an elf instead of my Santa."

Tim blinked. He didn't know exactly where Abby was going with this, but he understood enough. He slid his arms around her, pulling her close. One hand slid to her lower back, his fingers caressing the bare skin below her shirt. The other moved lower, pulling her hips against his as he bent down to kiss her, not trying to disguise his reaction to her anymore. Abby wrapped her arms around his neck, one hand pulling his head down as he deepened the kiss, backing her against the counter. His hand moved up her back, pushing the shirt out of the way. Before he could satisfy his curiosity about whether she'd chosen red or black, the shrill whistle of the teakettle cut through his thoughts. He pulled away, out of breath. Abby's lipstick was smudged, and he knew half of it was on his face. She smiled and ran a hand down his chest, then lower.

"Santa, then?" Her voice sounded innocent, but he could hear the undertone.

He nodded and stepped back, before her touch distracted him. "I'll make the hot chocolate," he said. "Why don't you go get comfortable on the couch?" Still, even as he flipped off the gas burner, he couldn't resist leaning in to kiss her, just a quick press of lips.

When he walked out a few minutes later, mugs in hand, she was sitting on the couch, her socks lying under the coffee table and her legs tucked up under her. He handed her a mug, then settled next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him and held out the mug.

"To fresh starts," she said.

He clinked his mug against hers and took a sip, enjoying the minty chocolate. As they sipped, she snuggled close, and he stroked his hand along her bare arm. He was enjoying the cozy feeling, but something she'd said nagged at him.

"Abs, how did you mean you're Mrs. Santa?" He kept his voice casual, not wanting to spook her.

She looked up at him, teeth worrying her lower lip. She hesitated before saying, "As literally as I can." She paused. "I mean, if that's OK with you?"

Tim couldn't stop the grin from spreading over his face, but he made himself press the point. "You really mean that? Because I can't do this a second time, Abby, not if you're not serious."

She nodded. "I'm serious," she said. "Because I know — I think I've always known — that you're who I would end up with. It scared me, because I didn't think I was ready, but I realized last year I was, and then earlier this week realized I needed to tell you before you decided I wasn't ever going to get there and you moved on and found a cheerleader or polygraph girl or that crazy prison guard or another assassin." She stopped to breathe, and Tim decided to silence her, leaning forward to kiss her. He pulled away and set his mug down, taking hers from her hand.

"Last year?" He couldn't help asking, even though he knew it would start her rambling again.

"Christmas Eve," she said. "Watching you with Fisher, I realized that's how you'd be with your kids. When I said you'd make a great Santa, I was thinking the kind of Santa where our kids sneak down to try and see him leave the presents and catch Mommy kissing him instead. I mean, if you still want kids and if you think you want them with me and-"

He kissed her again to stop the ramble, letting his hands slide up under her shirt. She moved to straddle him, her own hands stroking under his shirt, working it up until they had to stop kissing long enough to pull shirts over their heads. He smiled to see she'd kept the theme going and picked a red bra. Tim slid his hands up her legs under her skirt, pulling her down against him as she grabbed onto his shoulders. It wasn't long before he decided they needed to move this to the bedroom. They stumbled through the apartment, unwilling to let go of each other for the two dozen feet between the couch and the bed.

There, they quickly undressed each other and rolled onto the bed. Tim took his time exploring Abby's body, finding three new tattoos since the last time she'd been in his bed. And she kept running her hands over him, murmuring about the changes in him since he'd lost all the weight. It was familiar, and yet completely new.

When they lay under the covers, sated and snuggled together, Tim reached down to kiss the tip of her nose. "So, Mrs. Santa?" He knew he was poking at something he should just take on faith, but he couldn't help it. He'd gotten over Abby once before, but it was hard. To do it again — he wasn't sure he would be able. "You're sure?"

She nodded. "I'm sure." She pressed her cheek against his chest, her fingers tracing aimless patterns over the skin. "It wasn't just last Christmas Eve," she said. "I stopped things before because I knew, somehow, that you were the last guy I'd date, and I wasn't ready for that." He could feel her warm breath as she sighed against him. "My family — they're great. But aunts and uncles and cousins, my grandparents, even my father, always brushed off my clothes and makeup and hair as a stage, something I'd grow out of, even after I got the tattoos they could see. My grandmother, especially. She'd tell my parents not to worry, I'd meet some nice young man and I'd give up all this crazy stuff and settle down like my mother had." She lifted her head, and he could just make out her face in the dim light filtering through the blinds. "I love my mother, you know that, but I don't want to be like her. I want to be me."

Tim rubbed a hand along her spine and the cross tattoo he couldn't see, but knew was there. "And you liked me, but I was a Boy Scout and you figured if we got serious, you'd end up needing to be Martha Stewart at home instead of my Abby who bakes gingerbread people in the incubator with skull oven mitts and dissects family recipes in the lab to recreate them."

He felt her cheek brush against him as she nodded. "You know me, and you know how much I like the lab," she said. "Not just the lab, but everything in there: my music and my forensic art and all the things that are, well, me."

Tim used his hands to encourage her to move up until her face was tucked against his neck. "Abs, that's what I like about you." He paused, and a memory came back to him. "You remember that one time, a few years ago? I think it was before I even joined the team. You told me you loved it when I talked geek."

She giggled. "And you said you loved that I loved it."

He nodded and pressed a kiss to her hair. "It goes both ways, Abs. You watch my jetpack video even though you've seen it a million times; you don't roll your eyes — much — when I get sidetracked into something that only about four people in the Navy Yard understand, including the Cyber unit; and you never, ever tell me I should change who I am. With you, I can be completely me and know you like all my parts, even the geeky ones."

"Sometimes especially the geeky ones," she said, sliding a hand up to rub her thumb along his jawline. "You're the only one who doesn't just tell me to stop talking and get to the point, you like knowing the how as much as the results." She lay a trail of kisses along his chin, and he wrapped his arms more tightly around her. "So last year, when Fisher was staying with Carol? I got to see that she didn't change. She was in charge, and she had to be like his mom while her sister was gone, but she was still Carol." She giggled. "Even if she did have to watch her language a bit more, but she always was worse than me in that area anyway."

Tim realized right away where Abby was going. "So you figured out that maybe you could be Abby and be my Abby?"

She nodded. "And then seeing you in MTAC with Fisher, all I could think of was how sweet you'd be with our kids, and when you kissed me, it was like everything was right. But then you were gone before I finished making sure Vance wasn't going to go after you if he found out, and, well, I lost my chance."

"Never with me, Abs." Tim said. "You never lost your chance." He moved one hand down, caressing her hip. "So next Christmas, we're celebrating together, right? Santa and Mrs. Santa?"

She claimed his lips in a kiss, and he took that as a yes. But even after their conversation, he wasn't quite expecting her next comment.

"Just one thing, Santa," she said. "Do you think..." she paused. "Maybe next year, Mrs. Santa can be the one with a big belly? Or at least the beginnings of one?"

Tim rolled them so they were lying on their sides, facing each other. "You're sure?" he said.

She nodded. "Director Vance has been after me to get an assistant in the lab anyway, so my hours will hopefully get less crazy. As long as he lets me pick somebody I trust." Her tone was fierce, and he rubbed her back soothingly. "Besides, there's child care at the Navy Yard, and I can put a portable crib in the lab for when Baby McGee is little."

"You've been thinking about this." If he'd been worried this was a whim, her practical approach — the one that was all Abby — reassured him.

She nodded. "Please, Timmy?"

"You've never needed to convince me, Abs." He helped her as she rolled over and they spooned together, covers pulled up to keep them warm. "But you're the one telling Gibbs about this — he won't yell at you."

She giggled again, a sleepy edge to the sound. "OK, but you're telling Tony and Ziva."

He snorted. "Watch out, Abs. You are planning to stay a Scuito, I'm guessing? Because if you take my name, that means Tony'll give you McNames, too."

"Can't let Uncle Tony give you and our kids all the grief, now can I?" She wrapped her arms around his as he pulled her close. "I'll probably keep using my own name on papers and in court because that's what my professional reputation is tied to, but Tony's going to have to double his McName output."

Tim didn't know what to say, so he just nuzzled her neck, right where her spider web tattoo was. Finally he settled on what was simplest. "I love you, Abs. I always have."

She smiled at him. "I love you, too, Timmy. I couldn't admit it before, but I always have, too." She paused. "I'm sorry I made you wait."

He rubbed one hand over her flat stomach, thinking about how different that would hopefully be next Christmas. "I'm not," he said. "We weren't ready before."

She placed one hand over his, interlacing their fingers, then turned to face him, capturing his lips in a slow, sweet kiss that held all the promise of the years ahead.


End file.
